AT '.ne COUNTY FAIR.
Settin’ in the gran’ stand
I
At the county fair,
Beemed as it the whole world
Au' all their kin was there.
Way up on the top seat
Me an’ Jennie set—
Wisht 1 had the candy
An' peanuts that we et!
Jennie's right good lookin’;
But she likes to boss;
Pared me to bet money
Ou Jake Douglas’ boss.
Like a fool T done it;
Went down to the track.
How d'ye think I found het»
’S I was climbin' buck?
There I met her half way,
With another beau,
Stuck-up, slick-haired softy,
That Will Joues, ye kuow.
Let on not to see me;
Went right on a-past,
fl’pose she thought I'd ast her
Where she’s goiu’ so fast
Warn't no use to fuller,
So I let ’em go,
Funny how things sometime*
All go wrong jes' so.
Lost a pile on Jake’s boss;
Couldn't ring a cane.
Fellow swiped my goldine watch,
Then it poured down raiu.
Tell ,ve 'tain't all sunshine
An’ all "pleasures rare”
Settin' in the gran’ stand
At the county fair.
•“Chicago Record.
• THE OLD APPLE TREE •
•
«
WAS disappointed in my friend. We
bud arranged to spend the day on
the river. I had not met him for
years, not since our Balliol days, until
I saw him again after seven years at
tlie varsity sports in the early spring.
Then eight or nine of us. all old Balliol
men, dined together, ami we bad a re­
freshing talk over all that had occurred
while I was away in Canada. Six years
vf it 1 had there, and when 1 returned
was surprised to find so much altera­
tion In everything and everybody. But
dear old Fry was the same as ever,
Stanch and genuine itud generous.
When 1 met him in Lombard street,
* fortnight before, it was he who had
suggested ami settled tile details of our
trip on the river. It was to be on June
15, and we were to have had a long,
healthy, exhilarating day, with plenty
of hard exercise and a long chat about
Sid times -old chums that we were.
The .lay came and I was In river rig
st the boathouse agreed upon half an
hour earlier titan we laid mutually
fixed.
But Fry did not come.
The
half hour w ent, and anol her, and an­
other.
I know of nothing more Irri­
tating than to have to hang about for
another fellow to turn up when one Is
alone like that. At last, I got a note
by Ills servant. If lie had sent a wire,
1 should have had his message sooner,
hut old fashioned courtesies still char­
acterize Fry, and lie sent his groom
fleven miles with a long note of expla
nation and apology.
Ills excuse for not coming seemed to
me a flimsy one
Ills wife's father had
fixed a sudden meeting of family trus­
tees, and afterward he had to see his
sister on business of consequence re­
lating to a trust. However, whether
it was an excuse or whether it was
a reason, he was not coming with me
for our pro|e. led river trip that was
clear; and now Ilia I I knew he was not
to Join me. I was content. It was an
•frying. and, as I really loved dear old
Fry. it was n disappointment.
But 1
trust I am too philosophic to feel any­
thing deeply that cannot lie helped. I
countermanded the pair skiff and bad
•lit a single canoe.
In five minutes I was “on the bosom
of old Father Thames." The hackneyed
words, as 1 thought of them, were in
themselves a comfort and as I paddled
•n I thought how a guy heart wauts
so friend. Solitude has charms deeper
than society can afford.
Out of my
memory teemed troops of friends, and
they were with me as I willed. They
unit' at my call and vanished ns I
wished when thought of another sug­
gested
liven Fry himself, with Ills
hearty laugh, his loyal, brotherly spirit.
Communed with me. and was dispelled
again ns a more recent chum who laid
tracked many a bear with me iu t'au-
ads haunted my memory.
I was now in a lovely backwater more
beautiful than the Thames Itself. The
bankside flowers were more abundant
anil nearer to me Indeed, they hedged
me nl.out
The pale blue eyes of Innu­
merable forget me not* smiled up >u tue,
the yellow toad flax grew out of the
clay banka, wild roses and brambles
bloomed amidst their thorns, the leaves
of the osiers whispered everywhere.
• ml weeping willows hung their arch­
ing boughs right across the narrow
creek which it now pleased me to ex­
plore.
The water was clearer, too —wonder­
fully clear It was.
1‘addllug slowly
along betweeu the lawns, 1 looked Into
the depths of the water, with all Its
wealth and wonder of piant growth, the
waving forest of submarine weed. I
where I could see shoals of mliiuows. I
Now and then a school of perch, start
Jed by my paddle, darted Into the shad I
ow of the weed. ami a huge jack, sulk
lug In a deep green ; k > o I. made me loug i
for a rial and line
Whilst thus engrossed, lien.llng my
head over the aide of the canoe. In
which 1 continued to drift slowly along.
1 failed to notice bow narrow the creek
had become, until suddenly I found my
•elf .lose to a lady lying on a lawu—
•o close that I was almost touclilug
bar. bhe waa quit* at the edge of tba
H
•«ass. which sloped to the river. Half
a dozen cushions were about her—her
book lay open, its leaves kissed, as be­
fitted the pages of a poem, by the zeph­
yrs.
I had never seen so glorious a
picture, uor one that burst ujhiu my
vision so suddenly. She was lu some­
thing white and dainty, her hat was
hung on a branch, and the old, gnarled
tree under whose shade she reclined
was covered with apples.
Her hair
was tangled and golden and her eyes
full of light and laughter.
For a while 1 sat staring at her io
bewilderment.
Then 1 stammered,
“Where am I?”
Her answer was perfectly calm, but
it was not chill; no, her voice was so
soft that the simplest words she ut­
tered were a melody.
“You are in my father's gardeu." she
said.
“And 1—I---- ?”
“You are a trespasser.”
But she smiled as she said it. a smile
that showed two rows of pearl, spark­
ling in the sunlight that dappled her
face.
“And you?” I said. I know not what
I said, but soon 1 asked her name, aim
she told me it was Eve.
“And this is Paradise," I answered,
looking through the leaves of tlie old
upple tree at all the beauties of the
garden.
Then we talked. Of what? Of
every tiling. Of solitude, of friendship,
of books; 1 fear, of Canada and of
love.
Then she hade me go, and I could
not. Nor would 1 if 1 could; and when
at length 1 obeyed her and was about
to go, she hade me stay.
So 1 stayed, and soou had moored my
canoe and stood upon her lawn. 1 can­
not tell how I of all men modest al­
most to bashfuluess could have done
so, but I did.
Gf the flowers that grew wild there by
the water's edge 1 made her a crown,
and this 1 put upon tier tangled golden
hair.
She was my queen there ami
thenceforth forever; ami so I told her,
the poet aiding me.
Two roses that 1 had not seen before
bloomed ou her face, and she ran aw ay,
light-footed and lithe of limb, over the
lawn into her father's bouse.
But 1 could not leave; I could not.
I looked for her, but she did not come.
Once, I saw the curtains of a window
drawn aside mid her face peering out
upon me, but she would not come again.
Well, I stayed—that was all. How I
bad the impudence to do so 1 cannot
tell but I could not go.
She was a long while indoors.
1
heard her at the piano. 1 knew it was
her touch, though 1 had never heard
her before, but 1 was confident it was
she. Besides, now and then tue piano
stopped suddenly. and I saw by the
movement of the window curtains that
she was peeping to see whether 1 hud
gone.
At last I grew ashamed of my intru-
truslon, and, stooping from under the
fruit-covered branches of the old apple
tree, 1 went to my canoe, unfastened
Its moorings, and was about to with­
draw.
But, ns luck would have it, just as
I was about to get into the canoe, she
came out to me across the lawn. Her
gesture to me was that I must go. 1
said what 1 felt, regardless of nil or­
der, of all propriety.
"Eve,” 1 said
passionately, "you do not know me, nor
who I am, nor I you; but I know this,
that 1 love you. Yes. 1 love you. and
shall love you for ever. Your heart Is
my Eden.
Do not shut the gates of
this, my earthly Paradise.
I must,
must see you again, and 1 will.
Say
that I may."
She looked down and blushed.
"Muy I?” I faltered.
Sue diil not reply.
But her silence
was n better answer than words.
"Wheu?"
" I'» morrow,”
She looked so pretty when she said
it that 1 wits about to dare yet more.
I had the temerity to formulate tue
idea that I would take her In my arms
and steal from her lips a kiss when I
heard a shout.
"Hullo, old chap. Is that you?"
I looked up.
"What, Fry?" I cried. "Is It Fry?
It Is. by all that’s wonderful!"
"I'm awfully sorry, my dear chap,
that 1 couldn't Join you on the river to­
day. Abomluably uncivil you must
have thought me. But 1 didn't know
you knew my sister.”
lie looked at her and he looked at
me. I think we were both blushing.
Whether It be unmannerly or not, I
confess I was. Aye, I was red to tlie
roots of my hair.
"But you do know each other, don't
you?" lie said, fur we both looked so
awkward that lie seemed to think that
he had made some faux pas.
"Oh. yes'" 1 said, "we know each
other.” and I stole a look at Eve. The
glance she gave me was a grateful one
"Ami we shall know each other bet­
ter.” I whispered to her Inter. "Now
that I have discovered you to be your
broiher's sister, you bear an added
charm lu my eyes."
Three months afterward there was a
river wedding, and. as we were rowed
away from church In a galley manned
by four strong oarsmen, and I handed
her out of the canopied boat on to her
father's lawn, the wedding bells rang
out merrily, for Eve and I were mau
and wife, and I gave her a husband*
ki-s under the old apple tree.
Woman as a llatcr.
Men are good at revenge tltcv havt
so many way* of prompt action but.
while she must wait long perhaps, a
woman I* the best hater If once
wronged. and If Itefore death her day
come* Rhe strike*.
As long as a man I* of a forgiving
dl«tx>*ltlon a woman doesn't ear*
whether he pay* his debts or not.
A pretty and wealthy young widow
I* uevet a miss.
PLAN A RUSKIN HALL.
6T. LOUIS TO HAVE ODD COL­
LEGE FOR WORKINGMEN.
Will lie Modeled After the Oxford,
Euglund, J n»ti tiltion—Place Where
American Workluguieu Majr Get
Cour.ea of Study at Home,
Two enthusiastic young Americans
came over here, says a Loudon corre­
spondent, and put their time and mon­
ey luto the establishment of a novel In­
stitution that made a good many con­
servative Englishmen smile. The Eng­
lish workingmen, however, didn’t smile
at all, but concluded that the American
idea was a good thing, and helped it
along. It grew and grew until there
was no doubt about Its being a big suc­
cess, and now, oddly enough, English
workingmen are raising $20,000 in shil­
lings and pennies to propagate In the
United States the Idea that originally
camo from there, and incidentally some
of the English workingmen are kicking
hard because their brethren are doing
this thing.
The Idea was to establish a working­
men’s college, to which a man might
go or from which lie might get courses
of study at home. That sounded rather
dreamy, like some of the economic
Ideas of John Ruskin, in whose name
the work was taken up. But It devel­
oped presently that it was not the in-
And what are these halls to be like,
and how 1* thia monumental scheme to
be managed? The beat answer can be
had through some account of the pe­
culiar feature* of the Ruskin Hall at
Oxford. It is housed in an unpreten­
tious, four-story structure that was at
one time the residence of the fifth
Duke of Marlborough, and was after­
ward often visited by John Ruskin
while a friend of his lived there. It Is
just beyoud beautiful old St. John’s
College.
To any one who visits It after revel­
ing lu all the luxury of the ancient
seats of learning scattered all around
it, it looks bare indeed. I’iue tables pre­
dominate, and not many of the accoin-
panying chairs have backs. Workrooms
and bedrooms are furnished in the ut­
most simplicity. They have to be, for
the total cost of residence, Including
board and lodging. Is $2.50 a week, and
the tuition and tutors’ fees are GO cents
u week more.
Perhaps the queerest feature of the
whole thing, and a feature that is to
be preserved in the United States, is
that every student in the hall is ex­
pected to work two hours a day at
cooking, houseeleauing, etc., as no ser­
vants are kept, and there are no women
about the place. That is how the cost
of residence is kept down to such a low
figure.
Although housework Is not a part of
the curriculum, the men soou become
experts at it, and there is a growing
suspicion at Ruskin Hall that a iin.ii
can scrub a floor more effectively and
more economically than a woman. I
COMBINATION STREET CAR.
States a* head of the movement there. I
He 1* • trim, energetic, smooth-faced
young man, who talks like an Ameri­ One Which May Be Feed Either tn
Summer or Winter#
can, although he never aas been in th*
The immense cost to street car com-
United States.
pauies of providing separate cars for
summer and winter use has led Franz
ELOPEMENT A FAMILY TftAiT.
Burger and Henry M. Williams, of Fort
Ileac'er. 3 nt* of Cot. George Malinin« Wayne, Ind., to design the car shown
>iave Followed Hia ¿Marple*
below. The ear is egg shape, and the
It is the latest dictum of science thal ribs at the sides ami ends are slotted l
1 acquired traits are not inherited. In
on either side, to provide runways for;
the case of the Manning family, the |
tlie curved sections of wood or metab .
disposition of the first member of whom
which close tlie car. The roof of thei
there is any record must have bet'll,
car is of double thickness, with pock-j
transmitted and the disposition has led.
ets iu line with the ribs, forming exteni
to eight, it not nine, elopement—
George Manning was hired by Ceu
Wheeler, of Steuben County, New
York, many years ago to cut dinner.
He fell in love with Wheeler’s daughtei
ami she loved him, but her aristocratic
father would not have it. They elo|s‘d
and were married, going Into Warren
County, Pennsylvania, then a wilder-,
ness. Here Manning became very rich
and was a colonel in the war of 1812.
One of his daughters loved and was
loved by one of Ills workmen named
Sawyer. Manning would not consent,
so they eloped. Three years later an- (
SUMMER AND WINTER STREET CARS,
other daughter eloped anil xvas married
to a young doctor, Sullivan, wao be-’ sions of the curved sides. In the cen­
came rich and famous. Dr. Sullivan's ter of the roof are arranged a series of
daughter eloped with and w.i - married pulleys, with cables attached to the
to a young man who was objectionable upper edges of the sliding sectious, the
to her father. Another daughter fell opposite ends of the ropes being wound
in love with a young man mid this time, ou a shaft, thus enabling the conductor
to prevent an elopement, tlie father to open and close the car by turning a
gave his consent. Then the girl eloped crank on the shaft. When the cables
with another lover.
are unwound the sides will slide down­
ward of their own accord until connec­
tion is made with the floor, the curva­
ture of the sides allowing the passen­
gers to sit close to the ends of the seats
without interfering with the work ol
altering the ear.
PATRIARCHAL LIFE IN
BRAZIL.
German Colony in Which Condition#
Are Primitive and Elysian.
OXFORD RUSKIN BALI. IN HOUSEHOLD DRESS.
tentlou to make struggling clerks and
professional men out of well-paid la­
borers; also, that It was not tha Inten­
tion to give a foolish little smattering
of culture, but merely to give working­
men of whatever age or condition such
instruction lu history, political econ­
omy, the principles of politics and the
principles of labor movements, co-op­
eration and similar things that would
be of practical help to them In looking
after their own Interests.
The result was the establishment of
Ruskin Hall nt Oxford. A good deal
was said about it at the time, but it
was rather generally looked upon as
a fad, and then forgottcu except by
those who had some persoual interest
in It. But tin* applications for resi­
dence in tlie hall at Oxford have from
the first exceeded tlie limited accom­
modations, am) two more lialN have
lately been established in Birmingham,
another at Manchester and another at
Birkenhead, and others are to be start­
ed soou. Furthermore, tlie number of
student* In the correspondence courses
Is already over 1.500, aud is increasing
rapidly.
had rather counted on finding a mau
with a mop in one hand and a text­
book on political economy iu the other,
but was disappointed, for the prevail­
ing maxim is. "One thing at a time.”
Although many of the students are
married and occasionally bring their
wives to Oxford with them, the women
have to live elsewhere.
What t hey Study.
If, as really seems possible, this ex­
periment is going to have a marked
effect on the British and American
workingman, it becomes interesting to
see what it is that they are being
taught. The list of fourteen courses Is
made up of these branches: Sociology,
in which special attention is given to
the development of modern society and
present social conditions; English con­
stitution and political history, in which
stress is laid on the origin ami develop­
ment of English government; English
industrial history, covering land laws
ami the efforts of the workers to better
their conditions; the industrial revolu­
tion. devoted to a consideration of the
mechanical inventions and new Indus­
To Begin in St. Louis.
Various English labor leaders fell ill
with the idea, and the suggestion seems
to have come from some of them that it
should be carried back to the United
States. In consequence, the general
secretary of Ruskin Hall, II. B. Lees
Smith, and two tralued assistants, will
go to St. laruls to establish a Ruskin
Hull there, of which Mr. Smith will be
principal. They expect to branch out
from there until In time every big city
in the United States lias a branch of
tills unique college. Two prominent
English labor leaders -U. W. Boxver­
man, Secretary of the London Society
of Compositors, aud James Sexton,
Secretary of tlie National Dock 1 .abor­
ers’ Union have gone to the United
States to talk with the labor leaders
there and prepare the way for their
co-operation. Tlie $2t),lMM) required to
start the college iu America has al­
ready been guaranteed, aud a good deal
of it has been raised mostly from mem­
bers of the correspondence class. It
has been said that the British trades
unions as a body have been backing
the undertaking, but this Is not the
case.
The reason for making a beginning In
St. Louis doubtless is that Walter
Vroonian. who was the founder of the
college and supplied the first of the
money to start it. was a St. Louis
man. and was at one time active lu
politics and business there. He and his
wife, a Baltimorean, who is interested
a* much in tlie new movement as her
husband, now live iu Oxford, and give
practically all their time to Ruskin
Hall, of whose council Mr. Vroonian
Is President.
It Is the Intention to open a hall in '
St. Loui* a* much as possible like that I
tn Oxford, and to Itegin at ouee a cor ;
rv'|iondence school. As soon as the 1
iuiiu I ht of corresponding students lu
any other city seem* to warraut ft a !
hail will be established there also, and I
so on until, for all that the originator* i
can see to the contrary, every Anteri- '
can workingman from Maine to Cali- [
fornia will have an opportunity to be­
en m* an undergraduate.
Col. Manning, the first eloper, had a
son, also named Jason. The young
man fell iu love with the daughter of
one of Ills father’s teamsters, which
made Cot Manning furious. Jason
eloped with and married the girl. Tc
Jason were born a son and a daughter
The son loved a young woman and
when his father opposed him he eloped
with and married her. Jason’s daugli- ,
ter loved a young lawyer. George Me- 1
Cormick, but her father xvould not al- i
low her to receive him. So she eloped
with him and they were married. Now
Jason’s son, who eloped, has a daugh­
ter, who recently eloped with George .
Burns, her mother’s cousin. The per­
son who gives all this information says
another elopement Is imminent.—Wash­
ington Post.
Glories in His Crimes.
The craving for literary laurels does 1
not seem to be confined to any class
or condition in life, judging from the |
following communication recently re- !
eelved by a prominent publishing firm:
"Gentlemen: Dear Sir—I wish to put ■
my life Before the puBlic if 1 can Get
Anuf Out of it to give me a start ill 1
tlie world. I led a Crimmel life 21
years Arested 29 times shot at 27
times Bealeased on 9-haBis Coi\;aj
Waretits. Broke 13 jnles Convicted 7 i
times Broke 1 pen and taken 27 c<,n-
vlcts witli me. Waylaid and shot my
fatliern law twice married separated.
and divossed. If I can get a start in
the World Bye nutting my life Before
tlie puBlict I will doo so.”
Bronze Tablet* iu a Marsh.
RUSKtN ITALI. AT OXrOBt>.
trial organizations, which changed
England into a vast workshop.
The co-operative movement aud the
relation of co-operation to modem so­
cial ami industrial problems. Trade
Unionism. A short introduction into
political economy. Principles of Poli­
tics. Intended to give to the student an
insight Into the workings of modern
political machinery and an understand­
ing of the Constitution aud self govern
meat. The Labor Movement. Psychol
ogv especially as applied to habit, at
tentlou. reasoning, memory, emotion
and instinct. Philosophy, based on the
needs of an organic society rather than
ou the speculation* of pedants. English
Literature, especially with reference to
essay writing. John Ruskin as the
prophet of a new social order. Course
for training and lecturing. There aiso
are classes in English. French. Ger­
man. mathematics aud logic, a* re­
quired.
The first Englishman to enlist in the
new movement was the present gen­
eral secretary, 11 H. Lees Smith, who
was at that time au Oxford undergrad
nate. but ba* since taken hl* degree
aud will soon cut a figure in the United
Constantino Maes, the eminent Ital­
ian archaeologist, has submitted to his
government a memorial in which he [
affirms that 3.000 bronze tables, consti­
tuting the records of ancient Home, |
from its foundation to the time of Yes-1
pasiau, are buried in the marsh at Os­
tia. near Rome. He say* that tlie ta­
bles were carried to Ostia after having
been rescued from the tire which de­
stroyed the capital in the year 69 A. D.
Signor Maes wants the Italian govern­
ment to draiu the marsh in order to re­
cover these invaluable records, and a
commission will be appointed to inves­
tigate the matter.
Coast Trade Moving Southward.
Letters recently written from the
Bliimennii district in Southern Brazil,
where there are about 50,000 German
settlers, describe life there as abso­
lutely patriarchal. There is practically
no crime in the community. Every­
body is working hard to develop the
natural wealth of the country and the
immigrants are bolli well to do and
virtuous. Thus far they have got along
very well without gas, electricity or
telephones. They receive the news of
the world only iu foreign papers, they
are rarely visited by outsiders and have
absolute faith in one another.
There is only one prison iu the dis­
trict, anil, though its jailer receives a
fair salary, his position is a sinecure.
In the past five years there lias been
only one inmate of the prison. There
are several hotels, lint in most of ttietn
there are no locks on the doors and no
one dreams of locking his door when
this appliance is provided. When
gry folk enter the restaurants they find
a liberal supply and variety of eata­
bles spread out on the counters. Each
helps himself to what lie desires and
at the end of his meal deposits the
money lie owes at the cashier’s desk.
The Germans seem to have created
another Arcadia In tlie southern part
of Brazil.—New York Sun.
NOVEL-WRITING PAID BEST.
How Grant Allen Accidentally Stam-
bled Into the Literary World.
It is an actual fact that the late
Grant Allen, whose distinguished ca­
reer as a writer is well known, be­
came a novelist by mere accident—in­
deed. without knowing it. While pur­
suing ids scientific studies lie wrote an
article for a magazine upon the impos­
sibility of seeing a ghost. The article
was written by way of recreation more
than for any other purpose, and for
convenience sake and to make the
moral clearer lie threw the argument
into the narrative form, but without
the slightest idea that he xvas writing
n story. It was published under the
title: "Our Scientific Observations on
a Ghost.”
Immediately the editor wrote for an­
other "story” of a like character. Be­
ing a Journalist, Mr. Allen accepted an
order for anything and sent back a
blood-curdling tale about a mummy.
Not caring to let the world knoxv that
he was trifling with fiction, he veiled
the author’s identity under the pen
name, "J. Arbuthnot Wilson.” But
presently Mr. Wilson had so many or­
ders for tales that he monopolized Mr.
Allen's desk and Ills income exceeded
that of the scientist, and so Mr. Wil­
son beame Grant Allen and known to
all the novel-reading world.
Developed by Cultivation.
All garden vegetables are merely
types improved by long cultivation of
wild species. The wild cabbage is com­
mon enough in places by the sea, but Is
of no use for food in its wild state. In­
deed. it will take a botanist to tell that
it was a cabbage at all. Scotland owes
the cabbage to Cromwell’s soldiers.
The cauliflower Is but a cultivated im­
provement on the cabbage. It was
brought to perfection in Cyprus and
was very little known until about a
century ago. The parsnip Is another
native of this country. You may find It
along almost any hedgerow, but it Is
small and intensely bitter in Its wild
taste.
Quebec was originally the 1 natural
port of the Atlantic. It dropped down
to Salem, to Boston, now to New York,
and already New York business tueu
are complaining or Norfolk. Charles­
ton. Savannah. Pensacola. New Or-
leau* and Galveston. Trade is findiug
its level, as the waters of the country
debouch to tlie south. From wide
Little Nellie Knew Better.
areas east and west, and starting al­
Little Nellie wa* learning to read,
most from the British-American line, and part of her lesson ran thus: “The
the mighty Mississippi gathers trade a* cat has a rat.” ’Huh!” she exclaimed; "
she flows to the Gulf.
“the man who wrote this book didn’t
know much. Cat* don’t have rats;
People who can see a woman in the they have kittens."
uioou ought to put their imagination*
When a new widow wants to do
to some practical use. They own un­
something that is opposed to the rules
developed gold mine*.
•nd traditions, she says that it was
The very latest thing in door locks is "her late husband’s request.”
the night key.
A widow loves her husband •■ ten­
Some people are so disagreeable tliej derly and charitably as a girl loves her
feel ashamed when they laugh.
•teady.
A